


Balcony Dates

by suckerfordeansfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Comfort, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Dates, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pandemics, Soft Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerfordeansfreckles/pseuds/suckerfordeansfreckles
Summary: Dean has been hearing a lot of things from behind the wall that separates his apartment from his cute neighbor’s.It’s not like he listens for them, it’s just that the walls are very thin.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 29
Kudos: 214





	Balcony Dates

**Author's Note:**

> This is random and I am half asleep but also SO excited to have finally made words again. So. I wanna share them with you guys. Sending you love <3

Dean has been hearing a lot of things from behind the wall that separates his apartment from his cute neighbor’s. It’s not like he listens for them, it’s just that the walls are very thin. 

He’s heard lot of things that made him shake his head in confusion, theories about the Harry Potter universe,  _ constant  _ bangs and shouts of pain, really really really questionable phone conversations with some Gabriel that so frequently end in loug sighs that Dean has concluded Gabe must be a family member of some sort. Monologues about bees in Europe, human trafficking, frog species? 

Dean’s heard a few nice things, too, soft singing, whistling, accompanied by sounds that make Dean believe that his neighbor enjoys dancing around his place to commercials and 80s pop songs. Deep and throaty laughs.

A few very, very nice things in the deep of the night that Dean can’t think about without blushing bright red and feeling deeply ashamed for listening.

He’s heard a lot, over the year he’s been living next to the ruffled, cute guy next-door. Most of it was tinted a little by the fact that the pandemic made sure Dean couldn’t go over there and introduce himself in person. There have been glimpses of each other in the hallway, arms full of groceries or mail, faces hidden by masks. But nothing more. 

It’s absurd that Dean feels like he knows the guy by now, even though he doesn’t even know his first name. 

It’s absurd, that Dean feels any right to do this, but right now, with C. Novak sobbing and gasping on the other side of his bedroom wall, Dean can’t help it at all.

He scoots towards the end of his bed, knocks against the wall, knocks again until the sobbing quiets down for a moment.

“Hey,” he says, for a lack of a better introduction. “Hello, I’m pretty sure you can hear me through the wall. I just… I hope you’re okay?” He starts to talk louder, hears nothing from the other apartment except for a few very dampened sniffles. “You don’t sound like you’re okay, and I guess I just wanted to know if I could help?” He’s rambling at his wall, but he can’t stop himself. “I know we don’t really know each other yet, but I’m Dean.”

He waits, a few very long heartbeats, until the wall answers. “I’m Cas.”

There’s a smile on his face he can’t explain. “Hey there, Cas. Hope I got that right.”

A thump from the other side of the wall. Another sob. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Did you hear all of that?” Cas asks, voice sounding choked, as far as Dean can make that out through the wall.

“A bit of it. Not everything.”

“Oh my god.”

“Please don’t be ashamed. I bet you must have heard some pretty embarrassing things from my side of the wall by now too, right? I’ve been told I talk in my sleep.”

That gets a short laugh out of his neighbor. “And here I was, thinking you just enjoy monologuing at three a.m.” 

Dean decides to be bold, just blurts: “Would you want to come out on the balcony with me?”

There’s no answer for a long time, so Dean walks across his room towards the glass door that leads him onto his small balcony and opens it. There are a few feet of distance between his and Cas’ balcony, but it’s a good distance to speak to each other. How they’ve never been out there at the same time so far, Dean doesn’t know. 

It’s cold outside, chilling to the bone, but he can’t be bothered about that right now. All he can focus on is the tousled head peeking out between dark-green curtains. Cas’ eyes are red, cheeks blotchy and wet, nose swollen.

“Hey,” Dean says again, and Cas’ blinks at him for a few seconds before stepping out onto his own balcony.

“Hey,” Cas answers, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down and over his hands. “Sorry again, for the noise. I just --”

“Dude,” Dean takes over when Cas can’t finish his sentence. “It’s okay! I was just honestly worried you were seriously injured. Do you… wanna talk about it?” He steps closer towards the end of his balcony, hands on the railing. They are being very safe, he reminds himself, enough space and fresh air and everything. And Cas just really seems like he needs a friend right now.

“I’m not -- There isn’t really anything to talk about. Today is just a lot, or maybe, life is just a lot lately. I’m not sure I can…” There’s a tear sliding down Cas’ cheek, and Dean desperately wants to reach out and wipe it away. “It feels like I’m losing control over everything in my life, I’m just over it. Fucking pandemic.”

Dean can’t help but snort at that, sending Cas a half-smile. “If that ain’t a fucking mood. This year should just end already.”

“Yeah, it really should.” Cas laughs wetly, rubbing a shirtsleeve over his cheeks. “I’m a little embarrassed that you had to listen to my break-down. And that you see me like this,” he gestures at himself.

“You’re still super cute to me,” Dean blurts, before really thinking about it, and then he gets to watch the redness spread from Cas’ cheeks down to his neck in the evening sun.

“That,” Cas stutters. “I can’t really believe that, but thank you. Thank you for… interrupting me, Dean, for getting my mind off of everything.”

“Whenever you need me,” Dean says, and feels something warm bloom in his chest when he watches the first smile stretch across Cas’ face. “And now… Do you want some hot chocolate? And maybe tell me about yourself?”

Cas is smiling softly when he agrees, and he keeps smiling softly through most of the evening. Dean has seldomly felt prouder.

A few hours later finds them wrapped in their blankets out on their balconies in the dark of the night, drinking their second hot chocolate, their respective (and honestly quite sad) collections of candles spread around them, talking about life, family, loneliness and the world.

When Dean goes to bed that night, Cas is more than just  _ cute _ to him. They have also switched phone numbers and scheduled another balcony-date for the next day. 

(And so what if maybe they violate some government rules when, four weeks of self-quarantining and balcony-dating later, Dean takes Cas home with him and cuddles him on the balcony as hard as he would have wanted to that first day.)


End file.
